At the Water's Edge 



to confess that, after watching some grand old 

 barbarian bird of prey like this — a typical can- 

 nibal-chief in feathers — there is something ex- 

 cessively diminutive and slightly tame in a 

 civilized little song bird. I sometimes think I 

 modulate too easily into the mood of my sur- 

 roundings. This chameleon trick has a disad- 

 vantage as well as advantage. 



The osprey is quite abundant around the 

 numerous creeks to the north of Cape May, 

 where two or three could be seen at a time, 

 circling, suspiciously over the water, and occa- 

 sionally making a fatal dash upon some finny 

 resident beneath, and not hesitating to plunge 

 entirely under water for the capture of their 

 prey. But sometimes this operation proves fatal 

 to both parties ; for, when he attacks a fish he 

 is unable to lift out of the water, and does not 

 succeed in letting go his hold immediately, the 

 fish drags him under, and it proves a double 

 tragedy. In several instances the dead body 

 of a large fish, with the osprey still clinging 

 to it, has been washed upon the beach. For 

 some reason, fish hawks feel particularly amiable 

 toward crow blackbirds, which they allow to 

 nest in the cavities of their own huge struct- 

 ures; in one case four grackles' nests having 

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